The Carrie Maneuver
by beb
Summary: You would think a man in a costume would blend in at a costume convention. Not when that man is Batman. So the Mystery Incorporated crew is asked to help.
1. Chapter 1

"I can't believe Batman bought us tickets to go to this science fiction convention," the blind man said.

The jester leaned over and rapped him with scepter, unleashing a tinkling of jingle bells. "Shaggy, what is the first rule of Fight Club?"

The blind man had to think about that for a moment. "Don't talk about Fight Club?" He hazarded.

"Right," the jester agreed. "And what is the first rule of covert operations?"

"Ah, don't talk about Fight Club?"

Fred conked him again. "No, it's don't talk about being undercover!"

"Freddy, if you keep hitting Shaggy with your jester's stick security is going to come and take it away," chided the saucy lady pirate.

"Sorry, Daph."

"It's really an honor to be asked by Bat- that guy - to help him." said the ugly witch.

The saucy lady pirate rolled her eyes at what sounded like brown-nosing on the ugly witch's part, not understanding just how much Velma really worshiped Batman.

The four of them were walking from the overflow parking to the Gotham Convention Hall. Scooby Doo had a service dog handle strapped to his back which Shaggy was holding on to. Shaggy's costume, such as it was, were a pair of dark sunglasses. He'd wanted to dress Scooby Doo in matching sunglasses but Fred had overruled him. "You and Scooby are not in costume," he had explained. "You're supposed to be blind and Scooby is your guide dog. It's the only way they'll let a dog into the convention.

"Like, the hotel must be expecting the elevators to break-down during the convention," Shaggy said, getting the conversation off him. "They already got an elevator service on site." he nodded towards a large step-van parked down the service drive.

"Maybe an elevator has already broken?" Daphne suggested, giving an expert toss of her red hair over her bare shoulders. This wasn't their first convention and elevator break-downs from heavy traffic was a familiar affair.

Hotel Security met them at the door, "sorry, no dogs allows." they told Shaggy. Fred was about to argue with them when Shaggy pulled himself up, assumed a haughty expression, "Sir, I am blind as you can see. This is my seeing eye dog. I can not go anywhere without him and according to the Americans With Disability Act I am allowed to take my service dog with me anywhere." Shaggy's voice of authority left Fred bemused; he'd never heard him use it before.

"I've got to call my boss," the rent-a-cop said, pulling out a walkie-talkie and moving a few feet off. He was back a moment later. "The boss has his doubts but he isn't going to argue with the ADA," and let them through.

The doors opened into a large courtyard filled with ferns, cluster of chairs, people in costume promenading around and on one side a row of tables where people were registering. Registration was divided into six lines depending on one's last name. Velma was waiting patiently when four of five boys, ages six to about eleven, ran around a corner and saw her. "It's the wicked witch! Watch out she's going to curse us...aggghhhh!" one yelled and he fell into a clump on the floor. The other scatters, screaming 'don't curse us, don't curse us.' The boy on the floor sprang up and started running around Velma screaming, "you can't catch me." Velma was pretty sure she could. She was a lot faster on her feet than people tended to give her credit for, but she didn't want to lose her place in line. Eventually the boys tired of their teasing and wandered on. Velma was still seething when she caught up with the rest of Mystery, Inc.

"Why do I always have to be ugly witch," she said. "Why can't be the saucy pirate for once."

"Velma, you know they didn't have that costume in your size," Fred said.

"Besides, you really don't have the legs for it," Daphne added.

Velma rolled her eyes then looked at Daphne. The redhead was wearing knee-high swashbuckler boots, fish-net tight under them, silky blue shorts. A lighter blue middy blouse finished the costume, leaving a lot of Daphne chest exposed. The only thing that looked like it might not have fit was the shorts. On Daphne's narrow hips they were loose and generous. Velma's hips were ... a bit broader. She looked down at her own costume and grimaced . She was wearing a loose floor-length black dress, a big, hooked putty nose, green face-paint, a burlap satchel over one should and a broomstick make up of twigs. A black, pointed hat and a grey wig completed the disguise. The nose itched where it was glued on to her face.

"I don't know why Bat - that guy - couldn't come to the convention himself. I mean, like, every one's in costume. He'd just be one more costume. Hey, look, that could be him over there!" The blind man pointed across the room.

"Put your finger down," Fred rasped, stopping himself before smacking Shaggy's fingers with his bell enwrapped stick. You're blind. Remember, blind people DO. NOT. POINT!"

"Yoikes, sorry."

"Besides that is obviously not Batman," Velma said. "He's short, has a pot-belly, his costumes not very good and he slouches like most of us do. Batman... You'd know it was him, even at a costume convention. He's tall, with huge shoulders, rock-hard abs and ..."

"Velma!" Daphne said, shocked by Velma's panting description.

"I think we should split up," Fred was saying. "It's a large convention. there's a lot of people here and it's going to be hard to find the one person Batman wants us to find." Fred paused a moment then went on. "All he could say when he called me was that the person was young, antisocial, withdrawn, will probably keep in the shadows or out of the way and is planning to do something terrible some time this weekend."

"Is it a boy or a girl," Shaggy asked.

"Batman couldn't say."

"Jinkies, It's like finding a needle in a haystack." Velma said.

"But it's important that we find the," Fred said. "Call me if you think you see them. And keep the bodycams Batman gave us clear. I gather he's send the feed through a computer for analysis. Today we're literally his eyes and ears."

"I'll check out the panels," Velma said and headed down the hallway towards the meeting rooms. "I'll check out the art show," Daphne proposed. "I'll cover the grounds," Fred said. "And, like, Scooby and I will check out the food court," Shaggy said. "Hmm, food," Scooby grumbled.

"Um, Freddy," Daphne called, watching Shaggy lead his leader dog down through the crowds. "I don't think we should leave Shaggy to wander by himself. As a blind man he's not supposed to know where he's going. I'll stick with him, like I'm his guide or something. Ok?"

But Fred Jones had already walked off. Rolling her eyes, Daphne hurried after Shaggy.

][

Velma was forcing herself to walking slowly so she could look into every corner or nook along the hallway. Also there were so many people in costumes being photographed that she had to be careful not to walk into anyone's shot. Everywhere she looked skinny girls in skimpy costumes were striking a pose, trying to look sexy or menacing or both. No one was bothering to stop her to take her picture. She found herself brooding over Daphne airy dismissal of her ever being sexy. She came to a woman's restroom and remembering her mother advice that a lady never passed up the opportunity to use a restroom, she went in.

While washing her hands Velma took a long look at herself in the mirror. Ugly witch indeed. God, she hated it. With a sudden impulse she tore off the long, hooked and warty plastic nose and threw it into the corner. Then, because she was a tidy person she walked over, picked it up and tossed it into the trash. She pulled off the stringy grey-haired wig that came with it and tossed that as well. Grabbing a handful of paper towels, Velma wetted them and scrubbed at her face until all the green make-up was gone. Looking at the results she immediately felt better. Maybe not a saucy witch but she at least looked like a friendly one. For once she wasn't embarrassed by the freckles on her face; they looked inviting, standing out on her pink, scrubbed face. She took off the black witch's hat, letting her red hair show. Then placed the hat back on her head, lightly, so it rested on top her hair. She liked how that looked. The black hat accented the redness of her hair. Velma usually considered her red hair a tragedy rather than an attraction. For now she was happy how it made her look less like an ugly witch.

But could she be a "saucy" witch? The dress of her costume zipped up the front. It obviously began life as someone's choir robe. Velma ran the zipper down to the top of her bra. Being a sensible person, she wore a sensible bra: white, sturdy and very large. She didn't have to go far to reach the top of the bra. For her it was a lot more skin that she usually felt comfortable displaying but it hardly qualified as "saucy." She pulled the zipper down a little, then a little more, then with a grunt all the way down to the waistband of her panties. Well, that was too far! Velma pulled the zipper up until she found a spot just south of her sternum that seemed to display the maximum amount of cleavage. Now that's saucy, she thought. But she could hardly wear her dress like that and wear her bra at the same time!

Velma looked around to see that no one else was there, then reached in back and unhooked her bra. She pulled the straps down over her arms before dragging the whole through out the opening in her dress. Chills were running up and down her spine at the sheer ... naughtiness of what she was doing. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and opened them. And instantly pulled the edges of her dress back over her breasts!

After a moment she calmed down and assessed the situation. The zipper came up a bit to keep her dress from opening up quite so much but on the whole Velma felt happy about it. The freckles that ran across her upper chest also ran down a bit into her cleavage, emphasizing that forbidden valley. She twisted from side to side checking that her dress would stay in place. It did, sort of. She'd just have to remember not to twist about too much.

"Jinkies! I look like Elvira," she muttered and that gave her an idea. The costume came with a burlap sack to wear over the shoulder, to hold apples and such. In Velma's case it held a flashlight, magnifying lens, other useful items including a small pair scissors. She grabbed the hem of her dress and cut through the seam before ripping it to about mid-thigh. She struck a pose with her left leg pushed forward. The dress slipped around her leg perfectly. Who said she didn't have the legs for tights? This would show them.

Throwing her shoulders back, picking up her broom prop Velma proudly marched out of the restroom ... only to come to a sudden halt as she felt her bosom jiggling wildly out of control. A quick look showed that she hadn't suffered a wardrobe malfunction - yet! Velma felt a sudden urge to run back into the restroom and zip herself back up. She resisted it. She was going to be a saucy witch or die trying! Sliding one foot forward at a time Velma eased down the hall, trying hard not to jiggle

][

Velma hadn't gone down the corridor very far before a guy stopped her to take her picture. No one had ever asked to take her picture before, so her first thought was 'it's working!' She checked to make sure nothing was showing than worked on a smile that was neither too broad or too restrained.

Soon there was another photographer, then a third. Someone wanted his picture taken with her. His hand drifted a bit below her waist for Velma's comfort, but for her it was a new experience. She savored it.

All this time Velma was keeping a look out for nooks and crannies were anti-social people might shelter. Her work for Batman remained on her mind, mostly. She tried not to think what her mother would say if she saw her dressed like that.

At the end of the hall was the Grand Ballroom. They were having a presentation there for one of the big Hollywood studios for a film coming out the following year. She went in.

The presentation must be winding down she thought as they were doing a question and answer segment and people were drifting out. She started to look for people hanging around the edges of the hall when suddenly she tripped and went hurling to the floor.

It happened so fast that she had only a confused glimpse of what happened, her feet went out from under her, the floor came flashing up, then suddenly someone caught one of her arms and kept her from landing on her nose. He help pull her to her feet, smiling sheepishly, then blushing deep red. Velma looked down and hurriedly pulled the edges of her dress together. For a moment she had been fully exposed!

"Are you OK?" the boy asked.

Velma had time to take stock of him: young, slight, if not outright skinny; wearing black jeans, a black Tee and a grey hoodie. His skin was sallow, his mouth was tight, as if he wasn't used to smiling and his eyes were hooded and wary. Except when they drifted down below her shoulders, then they stared rather avidly. "Yeah. I'm fine. Thanks for catching me. That could have been a nasty fall. I wonder what I tripped over. She looked around but there was nothing, no loose carpet, string out cords, loose sheets of paper. "Jinkies," she mumbled. "I must have tripped over the hem of my dress. Well, thanks again for saving me.

"No problem. I'm glad I could help. Is this your first time at a convention?"

"First time at the national. it's - ah - overwhelming."

"Yeah. Isn't it, though. This is my first time here, too. Say, you want to get something to eat? They're closing up the room so they can prepared for the big Masquerade Ball tonight. I was getting ready to leave when I saw you trip..."

Velma hesitated.

"My treat?" the boy suggested.

Velma considered. "Ok," she agreed. "Are you going to the ball?"

"Oh, I'll be there." he said with unusual emphasis.


	2. Chapter 2

In the food court Velma got herself an orange juice while her new friend - he said his name was Bobby - bought a plate of French fries, drowned them in catsup and eat them with the relish of a starving man. Between bites he asked her all sorts of questions - about her hobbies, background, her friends. Velma edited out her activity with Mystery, Incorporated. When it was Velma's turn to ask questions Bobby tended to by vague - he was from 'up north,' didn't really have any parents, wandered around a lot so he couldn't call any one place home. He liked punk music, as she suspected from his attire. And had come to the convention because of it reputation for costuming. He liked the idea of playing at being someone you're not, he said. Creating an identity of one's own choosing for a time. In between times he would make little quips and puns that amused Velma a lot. She was really enjoying his company but as she finished her drink she realized that she needed to get back to Batman's task. With the ballroom closed, the next largest crowd she figured would be in the merchant's room. She suggested they go there.

As Velma was taking her cup to the trash bins she happened to notice a janitor pushing a mop in the corner. He had stopped mopping and was looking at her in a peculiar fashion. She wondered what was his problem. probably some fundamentalist who didn't approve of witches, even costumed ones.

][

"Stop rubbernecking," Daphne told Shaggy for the tenth or twelfth time. "You're supposed to be blind. Blind people always look straight ahead."

"Sorry! But did you see them. There must have been like a hundred Princess Leia's in that bikini get-up. Oh man..."

"Focus," Daphne chided. If you keep getting distracted by every half-naked girl at the convention we'll never find that kid Bat - our man - wants us to."

A couple of cute girls knelt down beside Scooby Doo. "He's such a cute dog," one said and reached out to touch him.

"Please don't!" Daphne said. "He's a working dog. Don't distract him."

"Oh, Sorry" the girl said. Someone growled "spoilsport." but when the girl looked around there was no one there. "Have a good day," she waved at Shaggy and walked on.

"Scooby, behavior yourself," Daphne addressed the Great Dane. "Sorry," the dog mumbled.

"So just what did Batman say about this kid we're looking for?" Shaggy asked.

Before Daphne could answer a man with a camera asked her to stop for a photo. She struck a pose without thinking about it. Three picture later and one guy asking for another to take his picture with his arm around Daphne, they had enough privacy for her to answer. "Freddy said his description was very vague. He got a credible rumor that some kid was planning to cause some kind of disaster at the convention but all he could say was that the kid was a loner, probably anti-social, probably projecting an aura of don't bother me. He wasn't ever sure if it was a boy or a girl."

"That's not a lot to go on."

"Really. Bat - That guy suggested we explore all the stairwells we can since he - or she - might be holded up there."

"What kind of 'disaster' did you know who say this kid was going to cause?"

"He didn't. Only suggested that it would be big and make headlines all over the world."

"What can one do at a convention that would make headlines all over the world?" Shaggy wondered. "You want to head over to the food court, I'm getting hungry."

"When aren't you?" Daphne said as they turned down a side corridor to the food area.

"You know," Shaggy said later, as he finished off a triple patty burger, "the only suspicious person I've seen so far is that janitor."

"Rurp!" Scooby Doo announced from the floor by his feet. he was licking the wrapper for his triple-patty burger.

"Don't point, I know which one you mean. The janitor was across the room from them, slowly emptying a waste bin and placing a fresh liner in it. Only those used to watching other people would have noticed that all the time he did this he was watching the crowds come and go in the food court. Despite the grey coveralls and ballcap with the convention center's logo on it he was rather unforgetable, somewhat taller than average, broad shouldered with a flat abdomen. He had a dark five o-clock shadow and a greasy mullet, but moved with the grace of leopard. What's a man like him doing working as a janitor, Daphne wondered. He deserved a better job than that.

Eventually the janitor finished emptying the trash containers, piled the full bags on a cart and pushed them off into a service corridor beside one of the food court booths. Daphne motioned to Shaggy that they needed to get back to the halls, and forgot all about the strange man in the janitor's uniform.

][

Freddy felt alone without Daphne by his side. They always teamed up together. They knew each others mind almost like telepathy. Without her he had trouble thinking out any plans. Since Velma and Daphne and Shaggy were out scouting the convention spaces Fred decided he would check out the outside spaces. That's where he would hang out if he were shy and introverted. Climbing the stairs in the parking structure he thought he had hit paydirt when he came across a withdrawn young boy sitting by himself half up up the stairs between the third and fourth floors. But the boy had proved only to someone with a touch of social claustrophobia. The crush of people in the convention had momentarily got the better of him and he had come out here to decompress. He was friendly, chatty, excited about being at his first big convention, hardly the sort of person Batman had warned him to be on the look-out for.

After a bit he made his excuses and finished climbing the stairs. There was no one else there. On the top floor, an open air level he was surprised to find a crowd of people in a roped off area near the elevator. Getting near he found that someone had set up a portable forge and anvil and three barechested men were taking turns pounding on a white-hot bar of steel. After a time the bar was placed in the forge and the leader of the three took questions from the crowd about making swords and armor. Freddy noted with approval the number of fire extinguishers placed around the demonstration area.

Off to one side was a smaller bench where a woman was bending short lengths of wire into chain mail. She'd loop a length through two rings, bend it into a circle, then pound the joint with a large hammer. She worked with a steady rhythm that was hypnotic. Freddy lost track of time until his phone rang. Pulling it out of the pouch on his costume he noticed that there was no number for the incoming call. he knew what that meant.

"Hello."

"Anything to report," a quiet but commanding voice asked.

"Nothing yet," Freddy answered, "Velma, Shaggy and Daphne are patrolling the hall, I'm checking the parking structure."

"Keep working, my source called again to warn that lots of people's lives are in danger. When you find him or her call this number. I'll be close by." A text appeared listing a seven digit number. Fred knew that no amount of investigation would locate the location of that number. Batman hung-up without further comments.

Fred crossed the top of the structure to the other stairwell and walked down on it. He stuck his head out at each level but didn't find anyone. On the ground floor he was about to level when he heard a giggle and followed it around some stacked cartons, in a space behind them he found three girls smoking pot. It took him a while to assure them that he wasn't a cop, or wanted to share the joint.

Walking back inside the convention center he wondered where else would a loner with homicidal tendency would hang out.

][

The merchant's room was incredibly crowded. Velma had to push her way between groups of people standing, chatting in the middle of the aisles. Bobby lasted only about five minutes, then announced that this was too much for him and rushed through the entrance. Velma felt deserted by him but couldn't blame him; the crowds really were overwhelming.

She had made her way half-way around the room before concluding that no one with the kind of anti-social tendencies Batman said their suspect had, would have stayed here. By then there was no easy way of getting out of the room, so she relaxed her vigil and looked at some of the wares for sale. There was not as many books for sale as she would have expected from a science fiction convention but there were tables of painting, specialty music recordings, jewelry, armor, T-shirts, and, like the table currently in front of her, all the supplies one would need to make a costume. There were boxes of every kind of button, bead or sequin, yards of ribbon and lace, needles, threads, and ... Velma move to one end of the table where rolls of what looked like tape were on display. She picked one roll up to look at, wondering how does one use tape in making a costume.

"Double-sided tape," one of the women behind the table explained. "You use it to hold a costume in place to prevent embarrassing nipslips."

"How...?"

"You apply one side to the garment you want to hold in place, leaving the paper in place. then once you get your costume in place you peel off the paper side and press down." the lady paused. "I'm surprised with your choice of costume that you didn't know about it."

"It was a last minute alteration." Velma murmured. "So how much do I need?"

"That roll will be plenty. But you'll need another roll if you plan to wear that costume again."

Velma looked from the roll to the front of her dress. "How much? I think the one roll will be enough."

The woman named a price and Velma reached for her purse. "I don't mean to sound pushy," the sales lady added, "but you might find the rolls of tape next to it handy, too."

Velma looked. The roll looked like ordinary clear inch and a half wide tape.

"It's low-tack adhesive tape. It's really great for when you want to tape down a sensitive area. The low-tack adhesive peels off real easily. Believe me, you do not want to yank a strip of duct tape off your boob!"

Velma, who had been abducted and bound with duct tape a time or two, readily agreed. Still she wasn't sure about the second roll of tape.

"This is your first time here, right?" the woman continued. "Buy these and I'll help you use the tape. It is a little tricky the first time. I _love_ costuming and love helping people getting started in it." Velma shelled out the money and woman, Clare, lead her around a cluster of costuming booths and through a guarded door into a small meeting room. Women in all states of undress were milling around, trying on costumes, making alterations, helping others with outfits of breath-taking elaborateness. Clare found them a corner and ordered Velma to strip. When she came out a few minutes later, Velma was walking with a new confidence as well as a formidable valley running down her chest, thanks to Clare's wizardry with tape. Not only were the edges of her costume tacked down tight but Clare had built her an impromptu bra out of the low-tack tape.

Velma finished making the rounds of the merchant's hall and on leaving found Bobby waiting for her. "Sorry I bailed on you," he began. "I'm not used to so many peop..." he faded away, eyes glued as usual to Velma's chest. "What happened to you?"

"I'm up here," Velma said and in saying that heard her using the same intonation as Daphne when men failed to look her in the eye. She laughed, mostly to hide her embarrassment. She always thought Daphne was so condescending when she spoke that way. "This is a hall costume, so lets just do the hall." As they idled down the corridor Velma explained the magic of tape.

When they came to the doors to the main ballroom a line was already forming of people waiting to get inside. "Let's get in line" Velma suggested, "I'd really like to see the Masquerade."

Bobby paled. "No, no, no!" He said urgently, and tried to pull Velma away. "You don't want to go to the Masquerade. it's be ... boring, yeah, boring."

"But you said you'd be here," Velma planted her feet, yanking Bobby off his as he continued pulling on her.

"I'll be ... be backstage. Working behind the scenes. You can't be there."

"I'll be quiet."

"Please, Velma," Bobby seemed to be almost crying, "don't go to the Masquerade. Please, promise me you won't go to the Masquerade!" Then he dropped her hand and disappeared in the crowd. Velma called after him but he was no where to be found.


	3. Chapter 3

The inside of the Ajax Elevator Service truck was not what one would expect . Along one side of the truck was a small wardrobe filled with an assortment of clothes, business, casual and service oriented. Next to it was a tower of drawers filled with an assortment of false noses, wigs and make-up. Past that was a full-length cot since even the mighty has to rest some times. The other side of the truck was filled with enough electronics to launch a satellite, ending in a wrap around console where a man in a black cape was staring at the flicking images of people caught on camera at the science fiction convention next door. The man in the cape wasn't wearing a costume. It was his uniform, a different matter entirely. On the cot was tossed the overalls of a janitor, the heavy work boots, a blonde wig and some appliances that had distorted the appearance of his face. Batman was raked with anxiety though you would not had known that by looking at his face. His informant had said the escaped kid would attempt some kind of mass holocaust at the convention. What he hadn't told the Mystery, Inc. kids that the informant had said it would happen today. If he could not find the kids soon he would have to stage a bomb threat to clear the convention. He didn't want anything happening to Mystery, Inc. whom he considered friends as well as people working for him. He also did not want whatever kind of holocaust this runaway was capable of from happening.

He had the computer going through the hours of footage the four kids had been recording as well as the feeds from the cameras he's scattered about. He wasn't sure how well he had trained the computer to recognize despondence, nihilism or suicidal tendencies. They were all such subjective emotions. The best he could do was have the computer flag individuals under a broad screening and queue up the videos for him to make a final comparison.

Batman was coming to the end of the list. The last image came up, a frozen close-up, like the others, of a boy in a dark clothes and a dark hoodie. It was Velma's new-found friend. Batman wondered why the computer had flagged him. True the dark clothes and hoodie had been one of the traits he had programmed in to look for. But Velma had spent much of the afternoon with the boy and seemed to be chatting with him easily. From her bodycam feed he could tell that she was still keeping any eye out for the suspect while talking to this boy. But it was easily to see why she didn't suspect him. He smiled, talked easily with her, told jokes... Batman had listened in to the feed for a while.

The flag had been sent on the earliest moment he had appeared on camera. He queued up the clip and watched it. It was pretty brief. Velma walks into the main Ballroom, looking to her left. The boy is on her right, barely in view of the camera. The boy looks up, smiles, makes a strange gesture with his finger and Velma falls. Batman stopped the clip and began it again. Then he ran it as slow motion and finally frame by frame The first frame the boy's in he has a sullen, discontented expression, exactly what Batman had been looking for all this time. He sees Velma, looks up with not a smile but a smirk. Then he sticks out his finger and moves it almost like he's using his finger to trip Velma. When the camera steadies, he had rushed to Velma's side to stop her falling and his smirk has been replaced by guilt and embarrassment. And he had attached himself to her side, not to hide from detection, it was doubtful that he knew he was under observation, but because he was a lonely kid and Velma had smiled at him.

But it gave meaning to his comment later on that he would be at the Masquerade Ball but didn't want Velma there. He picked up the phone and gave instructions to Fred Jones, then securing his cowl, he leaped from the van and rushed inside the convention hall.

][

"Where's Velma?" Fred asked as soon as Daphne and Shaggy met up with him in the Food Court. "She's not answering her cell phone.

They shrugged their shoulders.

"Batman says we have to evacuate the building - now! Come on guys, you must have seen Velma somewhere. It's kind of hard to miss a half-naked witch."

"She's not 'half-naked,' Freddy," Daphne protested unaware of Velma's surgery on her witch's costume.

"Maybe she, like when to the Masquerade?" Shaggy suggested, "It's, like, where everyone else is going there."

"Good idea." Fred was sprinting towards the hallway.

"Why does Batman want us to leave now," Daphne wondered, trying to keep up with Fred. "We haven't found the person he was looking for."

"I don't know. Maybe the situation has gotten dangerous." Fred said over his shoulder.

"But if it's dangerous to us, what about everyone else here?"

"Daph, I don't know. But when Batman says 'run away,' I run away!"

There was a heavy crowd at the doors into the ballroom, convention volunteers were trying to maintain some kind of order against the press of bodies. Fred pushed his way through with knocking people to the floor. "Spread out," he ordered. "We've got to find Velma!"

][

Answering her cell phone was least of Velma's worries.

It had all begun when she decided to get in line for the Masquerade despite Bobby's pleas. She wanted to get a good seat and knew from other conventions that first-come, first-seated meant she had to queue up early. She was was thinking about Bobby's odd comment to stay away from the Masquerade. She'd love all the costumes she's seen that day and knew that the evening's costume parade would feature really exotic costume and some inspired skits. There was no way it would be 'boring."

That's when she looked down the hall and saw Bobby moving furtively along the corridor, large paper bag in arm. For a moment he looked just like Batman's description. A sullen outside type planning to do something terrible. Could that be a bomb in his bag? But that wasn't like the Bobby she knew, a cheerful happy kid, polite and friendly. Things didn't add up. And when things don't add it, Velma goes to investigate.

She followed Bobby down the corridor and when he slipped through a doorway towards what would have to be the back of the ballroom, Velma waited a couple minutes before following him through.

She found herself in a dark corner of the ballroom hidden from the rest of the room by heavy curtains. A series of breaker panels indicated that this was where the lighting for the ballroom was controlled. Bobby was standing at the curtain looking through a gap. Velma wondered what he was looking for. There would be nothing out there but the empty chairs. Maybe a couple lingering workmen assembling the stage where the costumers would appear. He let the curtains drop, turned around and gasped seeing Velma standing near-by. He stuck out one hand and made a fist. An irresistible force crushed down on her, forcing the breath from her lungs. Meanwhile her new found friend was glaring at her with an all-encompassing hatred.

"Stop it," she pleaded "You're hurting me."

"Sorry," Bobby said in a normal voice. He looked at his hand, which was clenched in a fist, then opened it. At the same time Velma felt the crushing force go away. She tried to walk to Bobby but immediately ran into an invisible wall. "Jinkies," she muttered as she felt around for where the invisible box ended. It didn't. "I'm a Mime in an invisible box! Bobby what is going on? What's the meaning of all this?"

Bobby was pulling a dress from the paper bag. It looked like a raggety prom dress half covered in blood. "Why did you have to come?" he asked instead. "I specifically told you not to come. Now you're going to have to die with all the rest of them."

"Die! Why?"

"It's the only way I'll get anyone to listen to me. I call it my Carrie Statement." he shucked off his hoodie and pulled the dress on. He didn't bother zipping up the back. He reached into the bag again and drew out a wig with long straight hair. He donned it then asked Velma, "How do I look?"

It wasn't until he put on the wig, also soaked in a blood-like liquid that it came to Velma. "Carrie? Like in the movie? What kind of 'statement' are you trying to make?"

"It's hard to explain and we're all going to be dead pretty soon so it doesn't matter..."

"It doesn't have to be this way," Velma said. "Surely there is some other way that doesn't involve killing a lot of people."

"I thought you would say that." Bobby walked over to the curtain and peered through. "They're letting in the crowds. It won't be long now. A half-hour at the most." He walked back to where Velma was caged in an invisible box. "If there were someway of getting my message out without killing a lot of people I'd do that. But I've tried the other way and no one would listen to me. I'm just a kid, my story is too crazy... But they have to be stopped so I'm going to make a stink too big for them to brush away or pretend never happened. The papers are going to be hounding the government for answers and all they'll have is the message "Cadmus did this!" carved into the walls."

"Cadmus?"

"Yes, Cadmus. You never heard of Cadmus, have you."

"Well, there's a Cadmus in Greek mythology. He planted some dragon's teeth and fully grown soldiers sprouted up."

"Really." For a moment Bobby looked like his old self, curious and delighted. Then he shook he head and assumed his grim scowl again. "So that's where they got their name. Makes sense.

"The Cadmus I mean is a secret organization to created genetic super-humans, monsters with freakish powers. I'm one of them. I'm the only one to have escaped. There were twenty six of us, boys, girls, all different races. The one thing we had in common was that before we were born Cadmus had experimented on us, altering our DNA. Up until four years ago we were just growing up together, like ordinary people who just happened to be kept prisoner underground. Then one day they showed us this movie..."

"Carrie?"

"Right. They said this is what we are and if we wanted to live we were going to have to start showing those powers. They whipped us and beat us and shocked us with electricity in more to make us show these powers. But none of us had them. So they up and shot one of us in front everyone else. They said that would happen to us one by one if we didn't produce those powers. Every month they'd show us a different movie, sometimes it was about someone with telepathy, or who could see the future, or who could start fires. I liked that one. I wanted to be a firestarter and burn the whole place down. Then they wouldn't be able to keep whipping and beating and shocking us. And when no one could demonstrate any of those powers - bam! a bullet in the head."

"That's awful!" Velma exclaimed.

"I dream about them at nights some time ... most of the time ... Pete, John, Jac-Jac, Crystal, Sherry, Lizzie, Tommy. One by one their blood splattered the walls. Finally I was the only one left. They tortured me for a week trying to force out some power. And at the end of that time I saw one of the interrogators reach for his gun and knew I was about to dead. I shook like crazy and felt so ill I thought I was going to puke. I could see down the bore of his pistol. I saw the bullet he was going to use on me. Just as he pulled the trigger I threw up my arm as if that would protect me.

"And it did. The bullet bounced away harmlessly. And at the same time I discovered a weird sense of connectedness to everything. Like everything was there for me to reach out to, touch, move. Everything they had ever wanted from me. So the first thing I did was kill them all. I mean, they had killed all my friends, my family basically. I didn't owe them anything.

"So I left. Found my way to a town and told the police there what had happened. But they wouldn't believe me, tried to lock me up as a crazy person. I didn't want to hurt anyone so I wanted until they had left that night before forcing open the cell and escaping. I tried again at the next big city I came to. Same result. I tried contacting the FBI. I tried talking to newspaper reporters. No one would believe me. Well, one or two reporters did but one was called off his investigation and the other one mysteriously disappeared. I realized that Cadmus is too crazy for most people to believe in and too big for anyone who does believe. I realized in order to get any kind of notice I would have to do something so big and so ... awful ... that people would have to pay attention to me. That's when I remembered "Carrie" and knew what I had to do."

"You're going to kill thousands of people just to avenge the deaths of a couple dozen?" Velma wondered.

"It's not like that. Yes, I want to avenge my friends. But I already did. Everybody in that installation died before I left. But Cadmus won't stop until they create their killing machines and then what happens. Can you imagine a world with a dozen people like me, able to kill at a glance? It scares me. It ought to scare you as well. That's why I've decided I have to die as well. I don't think I could live with myself after having killed so many people. I'm tormented already by all the people I killed at Cadmus. I'm sorry you're here, Velma. We had a really good time this afternoon, but it's not like I can make any exceptions."

"Did you ever try talking to Batman? I'm sure _he_ would listen."

"Like I have Batman's phone number on my speed-dial. Do you?"

Well, no, she didn't. Velma considered telling him that Batman was somewhere close by looking for him but in his current state of mind didn't think Bobby would react well to that news.

The boy in the blood-splattered dressed looked through the curtains again. Took a deep, steadying breath and said, "Let's do this."


	4. Chapter 4

Bobby marched through the curtains and Velma found herself being dragged after him. There was a long ramp to the stage were people in costumes were gathered. Bobby lead her to a short flight of steps at the front and pulled Velma up them. A spotlight flashed on them, causing Velma to be sudden self-conscious about her saucy outfit.

"Velma!" a voice called out.

"Fred! Help!" she screamed back.

"You have friends here?" Bobby asked.

"Of course I have friends. And Batman, too. We're all trying to stop you. Doesn't that mean we all believe your story? You don't have to kill anybody to prove your point."

"How do I know Batman isn't one of them."

" _I_ know he isn't because he's never lied to me."

Without answering her, Bobby marched towards the center of the stage, dragging Velma with him. There was a ruckus in the crowd and moments later Fred Jones was on the stage running towards them, Daphne not far begins. Even Shaggy, looking pale with fear, was running towards her, Scooby Doo by his side.

"Enough!" Bobby screamed and the four stopped like hitting a brick wall.

A moment later the doors into the ballroom slammed shut. People could be heard pounding on the doors from outside while others tried to force the doors open.

"I am your worst nightmare," Bobby shouted in a voice that seemed strangely amplified. "I am Carrie, bringer of death! And it's all Cadmus' fault!" There was a shuddering to the background behind the stage. Curtains fell exposing the concrete behind. The wall seemed to explode and when the dust cleared all could see the words "Cadmus did this" carved deep into the cement.

The room reverberated with the screams of frightened people, cried of terror and pleas for help as the multitude of fans rushed towards the exits, crushing those already there in a futile effort to force open the doors. Velma was thinking how best to plead with Bobby when she caught a glimpse of something, small and round, arching overhead. It burst overhead near the exits with a flash of light and showering the people there will a cloud of white powder. Velma didn't watch what it did to the crowd. Her eyes were quickly tracing the objects backwards flight. It came from the far side of the ballroom. She could only see some kind of commotion there. People were quietly being pushed aside. It was too dark to see who it was, but she was sure it was Batman. Knowing the extent of Bobby's powers she knew she had to keep his attention focused on her while Batman worked himself closer.

She started talking, calling to Bobby from time to time to make sure he was listening. She talked about her friends and how they had formed a mystery solving club, eventually going on the road and gaining some recognition for their work. She emphasized that since they had seen his powers they believed his story about Cadmus as well. She talked about how they would look into his mystery. She was getting hoarse and running out of idea when she heard a heavy thump and saw that Batman had leaped on the stage. He was running towards Bobby, throwing a small black pellet at him at the same time.

Bobby threw up a hand and caught the pellet in his invisible fist. He crushed it as it popped with a flash of light. Another hand gesture and Batman was caught in the same invisible fist that was holding Velma.

"You really thought you could beat me?" he jeered. "What do you have besides little stun-grenades? Nothing. You've got nothing. And Velma - shut up! I'm tired of your yapping! I..."

Velma heard a faint rattling on the stage. Looking down she saw another small black pellet, rolling towards Bobby from the center of the stage. A small, black radio controlled car was perched there. The pellet exploded showering her, and Bobby with a white powder. Bobby went to swipe it away with his telekinetic powers but the powder was already falling on him. Velma was coughing as the powder entered her lungs. She barely got off one cough before the floor rose up to met her.

][

A second cough brought her awake. Velma was laying on the floor, but not on the stage. Batman was leaning over her, a concerned expression visible on his lips. This was so much like her daydreams she wasn't sure she was actually awake.

"Does your mother know you go out dressed like that?"

"Batman!" Velma cried shocked as much by his joke as that he made a joke.

"Your costume got a little messed up in the confusing. I thought you'd appreciate a blanket."

Velma looked down and saw that she was covered in a tissue-thin black sheet. She expected to see Bat logos scattered all over it but realized that Batman worked best when he did not advertise his presence. "You set up the RC car to lob a pellet at Bobby while you held him distracted."

"You were doing a good job doing that, too. I wasn't expected to get as close to him as I did."

Velma lay back, finding herself still a little weak. Suddenly she shot up. "Bobby! What did you do with him?"

"Considering his frame of mind at the moment I'm keeping him sedated until the Martian Manhunter can bring a suitable restraint."

"But he's alright?"

"You care after he nearly killed you?"

"He told me this long story ..."

"... about Cadmus," Batman interrupted. "We know. Cadmus is on the Justice League's most wanted list for some time. They've just kept one step ahead of all the time. We suspect they have a precog working for them. Maybe with time we can get Bobby to help bring them down."

"Can I see him?"

"He's over there," Batman gestured to a nearly blanket covered form.

Velma forced herself to her feet. She felt dizzy from the narcotic Batman had used to put Bobby out. Her dress was, as Batman said, something of a shambles. She wrapped his blanket around her tightly before going over to look at the boy.

He was snoring, with a little drool coming out of one corner of his mouth. "He looks so young. And innocent. What's going to happen to him?"

Batman looked unhappy. "The Justice League only apprehensions super-villains and contains them until a trial can be arranged. We'll take him to a secure location and see what happens when the drugs wear off. Beyond that it's up to the courts."

"Do you think..."

"He might get some leniency considering his age and his horrific background but at least nine people were trampled to death after he sealed the doors, and dozens more are in serious condition. There's going to be a lot of angry people calling for his head."

Velma felt a heavy hand on her shoulder. She looked around and saw a black gauntlet resting there. Batman pulled her away from the sleeping child-monster. "If we can crush Cadmus and get - ah Bobby - some therapy it's possible he will be given clemency. One can only hope for the best." There was a long pause. Velma was fighting back tears. Suddenly the heavy hand gripped her tightly. "I'm sorry this happened to you," the dark avenger whispered in her ear. "I truly am."

He let her go just as abruptly. "I think your friends should be waking up about now. They'll be anxious to know you're all right." He pushed her off towards a small cluster of people who were just beginning to stir.

"Velma!" Fred called, Daphne and Shaggy echoed his cry. Scooby Doo took a dog's prerogative, leaped up to her shoulders and gave her face a big lick. ""All you alright?" they were asking.

"Right as rain," Velma lied. "Right as rain."


End file.
